


miles in reverse

by tal_5



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Curse Breaking, Curses, Developing Friendships, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Relationships, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sibling Rivalry, Slow Romance, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23147959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tal_5/pseuds/tal_5
Summary: Before every visit to the Imagination, Roman makes a point of checking on everyone. One morning, the others wake up to a note⏤ he’s left without saying a thing. One week later, nothing. A week and a day. Nothing. The sides never have been very patient.
Relationships: Anxiety & Creativity & Dark Creativity & Deceit & Logic & Morality (Sanders Sides), Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton/Deceit Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	1. Roman

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: implied depression, deceit mention, remus mention and blood mention

Running his hand over the pale hallway wall, Roman noted for the hundredth time that his dent was still there.

It had been an accident, of course. Roman had been moving a picture from one wall to the other, making room for a… more inclusive family portrait, when the corner of the frame had slipped and slammed into the wall. The wall wasn’t real, so he could just snap his fingers and it would be fixed.

For some reason though, he didn’t.

He searched instructions on how to fix a wall instead, and then summoned the tools he’d need to do it. Sandpaper, drywall, a putty knife and a list of other things he had no idea what to do with. But despite the rough start, middle and lecture from Logan, the end result was much better than he could’ve hoped for.

Painted over in the same shade of silky white as the rest of the hallway, sanded until smooth to perfection, with only a shallow dip where the hole used to be. One couldn’t really see it unless they touched it, like Roman was doing. Why was he touching the wall, again?

A sigh passed through his lips as he scanned the long hallway to the common room. Tracing the soft edges of a walnut cabinet they had decided on a while back, replacing the old birch bookcase the three of them had never used before Virgil made a place for himself in their group. He’d been intimidated by the overwhelming light he’d face when leaving his room, so giving the hallway a pop of dark not only gave it an attractive depth, but also made it more Virgil-friendly.

Logan, whose room was situated just to the right of the cabinet, always left his bedroom door slightly ajar after the bookcase was replaced. He had claimed it was only to ‘let some natural light in’ despite there being no window in the hallway, but the three of them⏤ he, Virgil and Patton ⏤had decided that there was definitely a much more sentimental reason, but never bothered to discuss that theory with Logan himself.

Peeking inside, Roman breathed out a laugh at the sight of his companion sleeping at his desk, a blanket already covering his shoulders; Patton had obviously made his rounds already. He switched off the light, closing his eyes to shield them from the blinding shine of it, and closed the door fully. Logan wasn’t always asleep during his (somewhat) monthly checkups, but Roman was never surprised to find him like that.

The next room, located on the opposite side just a few feet further down the hall, is where Patton resided. As usual, his door was wide open, held that way by a rubber door-stopper, and allowed the ‘natural light’ Logan had mentioned before to emphasise the contrasts of the hallway. Dark furniture, light walls. Roman, at first, had no opinion on it. It was new, certainly, but he didn’t truly see this place as a home, then. Now though, he thought it looked regal. Elegant. To the standards of royalty, or a person of wealthiness and high reputation. He hated it.

Walls too basic, cabinet empty, not even the light bursting from Patton’s room could give it even a touch of _fun_.

Leaning against the doorway, Roman tapped the wall twice to get Patton’s attention and chuckled as his friend both flinched and grinned in the same few seconds. “Roman,” he greeted gleefully. “Going on another one of your amiable adventures, huh?”

“Ah, well…” he shrugged but gave a curt nod.

“Yeah.”

Patton seemed to falter slightly before being dragged upwards again very possibly by the light hanging above him, craving his essence to continue illuminating his room. “How’s your day been? Virgil told me he saw you painting earlier.”

Paint stains and crumpled paper forced his muscles to tighten until he was standing ramrod straight, eyes straying to the cuddly toys sitting comfortably on Patton’s big bed, plastic, googly, and glass eyes expecting him to reply. “Yeah, I was just brainstorming, I suppose. Nothing important.”

Patton frowned. “I’m sure it was very important. Having fun is just as necessary as completing your work, you know.”

It was less of a question and more of a statement, but Roman felt the need to answer him anyway. “Whatever you say, my Peppy Parent. Did you have a good day?”

With a grin, Patton nodded. “Thomas saw a dog, so I saw a dog!”

Roman snorted. “Excellent.”

The two of them were quiet for a while, just letting the sounds of Patton’s needle wriggling to get through his velvety fabric fill Roman’s head until he stopped and Roman glanced down at where his friend was stitching two pieces of scarlet fabric together, a bag of wool sitting next to him.

It took a moment for Patton to choose his words. “Does… Does Remus showing up make you happy?”

Though it was hard to blame him, he didn’t choose his words very well.

Before he could give Roman a chance to speak, he continued. “I think he could be misunderstood, but he clearly makes you and Virgil uncomfortable, and I don’t want my family to feel that way. Tell me if I’m getting involved in something that’s none of my business, but I think that, if he wants to stay here, he needs to learn some manners. And people skills.”

Roman, pretending that the word ‘family’ didn’t make him want to throw up, let out a soft laugh, one filled with the charred memories of toy swords and cardboard castles, and closed his eyes as he answered, unable to hide the truth as well as he’d like. “Well, it isn’t ideal. But I’m sure we’ll be able to get rid of him somehow. He’ll go away and everything can go back to normal.”

Hoping to change the topic quickly, Roman opened his eyes and gestured to the cat onesie Patton had always been so attached to. “Movie night was fun, wasn’t it? I’m glad Virgil and Thomas are ‘Gucci’ again.”

Patton smiled, returning to his cross-stitching. “It was! I mean, I didn’t like it when Virgil got mad at me, but other than that, it was really fun.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it, puffball. He was probably just upset with the turmoil growing between him and Thomas. Everything’s okay now, though.”

Unsure, but brighter than before, Patton’s smile grew and he nodded in agreement. “I hope so.”

He sighed, his smile wilting a little until he looked back up at where Roman was beginning to back away towards the door. “Goodnight, bud. Enjoy your trip!”

Roman smiled. “Thanks, I will.”

His third stop of the night was in full view, door closed despite Patton’s suggestion and painted black in a silly rebellious act to Logan’s rule banning anyone from decorating by themselves. Roman fixing his mistake manually was bad enough, apparently.

Virgil’s room had always been a stressful location for obvious reasons, but it was worth it to actually speak to the owner of said room. And if the overwhelming anxiety weren’t attached, the room itself would have actually been quite nice and he’d definitely have been willing to hang out in there more often. If Virgil wanted to hang out with him, of course. Which he probably wouldn’t. Which was fair.

Before he could drift into his thoughts, he knocked on the dark wood and waited.

“Come in.”

“Hey,” said Roman, plastering an ill-fitting grin on his lips and leaning against the shadowy wall beside the doorway. “You feeling okay?”

The frown on Virgil’s face didn’t seem to be the usual brooding feature, but in fact, more of a disappointed expression. And even though he should have cared, even though he should’ve tucked the sting into the bundle stored in his heart, his thoughts clouded together into one big empty feeling.

Virgil’s frown weakened and he gestured to his desk chair. “Hey, take a seat. Just don’t be in here too long.”

“I won’t, I’m just here to see how you’re doing.”

“Because you’re going away, right?” Virgil asked, glancing down at his phone.

Roman found his breath was trapped in his throat, but he feigned breathing to convince Virgil that he was okay. Because he was. “Ah, well, not ‘going away’. Just visiting the Imagination for a few days. A week, maximum.”

Simply humming, Virgil continued scrolling through his Tumblr dashboard and let some of the tension in his back go, fully slumping into the pillows. Roman watched him for a short time, wondering how he could make the conversation that would lead to his leaving. But, as it would turn out, Roman didn’t need to start that conversation at all.

“Where have you been, lately? We rarely ever see you.”

Furrowed eyebrows creasing his forehead, Roman leaned forward, elbow on knee and chin in hand. “ _You_ haven’t seen me. Doesn’t mean I’ve been ‘gone’.”

Virgil stopped tapping his screen for a moment, resting his hands on the bed covers. “So, other people have seen you, but you’ve been avoiding _me_?”

“No,” Roman said, sharp and insistent barely a second after the word ‘avoiding’ had left Virgil’s mouth. “I wouldn’t do that, not to you. What reason⏤ Why would I be avoiding you?”

Shrugging, Virgil let his hair fall over his face, obscuring the image of his pale foundation and faded freckles. “Well, if other people have seen you…”

He cleared his throat and let out a strained laugh. “Then again, I do stay in my room most of the day, so it could just be my fault.”

Roman tried to laugh with him. “True enough. Because I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

Twisting his sash between his fingers, Roman ignored the splash of green at the edge of his vision and concentrated on the silk running over his fingertips. The material was drying, leaving skin aching for hydration, but it was so beautiful he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He chanced a glance up at Virgil and found him staring at a post on his screen, eyes scanning over the words and lips curling up into a small smile. “How… How is everything with Thomas? I know the Dark Sides have been making things difficult for you.”

Virgil flinched. “I think we’re good. And yeah, but I’m sure it’s not great seeing Remus again. I get it.”

With a weak chuckle, Roman nodded. “Yeah.”

He stood up again and stretched. “Alright, I’ll see you in a few days. Take care of yourself and Thomas, okay?”

“Will do.” Virgil said.

And so, he quickly made his way to his final stop, Thomas’s apartment, only to find him hunting in his kitchen cupboards. A sigh escaped Roman’s lips before he could try to keep it within and he headed towards the several concerning _clangs_ and _thumps,_ finding his friend blearily holding a blender by the handle.

“Thomas,” he sighed again. “Hold on, I’ll get you a drink and then you need to go to bed, okay? We all need our beauty sleep, even handsome fellows like ourselves.”

With a sleepy giggle, Thomas nodded and leaned against the counter, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. Watching him gave Roman the sensation of spiders squirming up his spine; it reminded him very much of the six foot mirror sitting at the end of his bed.

He shook that image from his mind and held the cup under the tap, turning it until water slowly filled the glass and weighed down Roman’s hand. Thomas was then lead upstairs and tucked into bed, something reminiscent to his college days and days working in the theatre. “Alright, your water is on your nightstand and you’ve eaten a proper meal. That should keep everyone happy until tomorrow. Are you feeling alright?”

There was a pause before Thomas sat up. “I’m scared.”

Roman frowned. “Why?”

“Are there any other secrets you’re keeping from me? Any of you?”

So many. He wanted to burst with all the thoughts and knowledge he’d accumulated over the past thirty years, but that wouldn’t be good for him. Especially not right before bed. So, he did something Virgil would have wanted to smack him for.

He smiled. “No.”

“No more secrets?” Thomas asked.

“No more secrets,” he said.

* * *

A month later, Roman lay on his bed, watching the silk curtains wave languidly in the gentle push of the late-night breeze. He followed the movements with his eyes, feeling the motion lull his lids closed. But just as he began to notice his thoughts blurring into flashes of beige, there was a voice grinding against his skull. _‘That doesn’t sound like a very fun house.’_

Immediately, his body rejected the memory and threw him upwards. Sitting ramrod straight, he attempted to catch his breath, shaking his head to rid himself of the voices beginning to take form. Of the faces beginning to take form. But he couldn’t.

Moonlight reflecting the texture of scales promised treasure and dreams and everything he could ever want. The price of said gifts grinned back at him in the mirror. Maggots crawling through his teeth and tattered green hanging from his torso and shoulders. In that mirror, blood ran from his nose, but he’s too numb to feel it. The taste of copper and bleach burned through his tongue, but all he took from the image blinking blankly back at him was that at least now, he wouldn’t be able to taste the rancid flavour of carrots.

Pain was good. It taught him things.

And so, as he stared at the exit that would take him far away from the others, he thought about everything he’d heard in the past few months. If he were really a prince, he’d take what he wanted, what he _needed_ , without allowing questions. He’d make others happy, rather than ruining their day with juvenile shenanigans and insults that just slipped off the tongue.

If he could prove to himself that he could fulfil his purpose, things would be better. He would be better. _Thomas_ would be better.

But the others couldn’t know. He’d be back soon, less than three days. In fact, he’d leave a note on his bed for them to find telling them as much. But they couldn’t know right away, nor could they follow him.

Everything had a purpose and sometimes fulfilling your purpose required keeping things… close to the chest.

The one truthful thing that snake had ever said.


	2. Virgil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something seems off, but Virgil doesn't really want to focus on what it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: anxiety mention and Deceit mention (tell me if I've missed any)

Much like the origin and location of aliens, mornings with Virgil sitting at the breakfast table were something of a myth.

He liked it that way⏤ found it amusing, but on the morning of February 21st, his skull was stuffed with so many cobwebs he didn't have the space to remember that. And despite the scent of bittersweet coffee wafting in through his open door, he was reluctant to get out of bed. It was so _warm_. And the world outside was so _cold_.

Though, if he left his room, he would see _them_.

The fluttering in his chest convinced him to make a compromise: get out of bed, but wrap his blanket around his shoulders. He did just that, slowly, but surely, and slunk down the hallway, dragging his heavy, makeshift cape behind him.

As he did so, he noted the dent still curving into the wall beside Roman's room and smiled, memories of frustrated curses and tired lecturing sending warmth through him.

However, he also noticed that Roman's door was still closed. Unusual, as he would normally be awake at the kitchen table by nine o'clock. Ten o'clock, maximum.

Such a small inconsistency set off an uneasy spinning in his head, dizzying him and filling him with nausea. But, even so, he didn't want to ruin the morning with something so insignificant, so he kept his mouth shut and attempted to concentrate on the promise of cereal waiting for him in the kitchen.

Logan and Patton, both sitting at the table with their own breakfast, looked up when he entered the room. Although Logan merely offered him a short smile and a nod before continuing to read his book, Patton stood up to greet him, offering him a quick hug and a drink of orange juice before sitting back at the table.

With a sigh, Virgil collapsed down into his usual chair and immediately lay his head down in his arms on the table. Logan watched from his own spot, pausing his reading to consider his friend for a moment, brows furrowing.

"Are you alright, Virgil?"

From the corner of his eye, Virgil saw Patton stiffen and snap his head towards him. Even so, he said nothing. His throat tightening at the thought of delving deeper into his concerns.

"Yeah," he replied, voice muffled by the cherry wood table.

There was the sound of shuffling before the clatter of ceramic hit the wood in front of his folded arms. A bowl of his favourite cereal, along with Patton refilling his cup.

He smiled softly. "Thanks, Pat."

A kiss pressed to his hair forced him to hide the lower half of his face with his sleeve, but as the chair beside him scraped against the floor, he remembered Roman's closed door and frowned. He scooped some cereal into his mouth before scanning the room. It felt empty. Quiet. Much too quiet for Virgil's liking.

"Hey," he began, nerves softening his voice. "Do you guys know why Roman's still in bed?"

Patton seemed to tense for a moment and then deflate. "No. He's not in the bathroom, is he?"

Frowning, Logan seemed to wake up from whatever trance his book had sent him into and hummed softly. "I don't believe he is. Perhaps, he's sick?"

"Should we search for him?"

At Virgil's question, Patton vigorously nodded and stood from his seat, already heading towards the bathroom. Logan and Virgil shared a look of uncertainty before standing themselves.

"We should check Roman's room," Logan said calmly. "I don't know where else to look, so we can check together, yes?"

Virgil nodded and resisted the urge to grip Logan's hand as tightly as he could, just to release all of the nervous tension, of course, and simply followed him to the end of the hallway. Roman's door was still closed.

They entered and instantly, that nausea in Virgil's stomach twisted into something darker and more intense.

He wasn't there.

Logan inhaled deeply, as if he were a dog trying to seek a scent, and headed towards Roman's bed. His brows drooped yet again. "A note."

Hesitant, soft, Virgil swallowed and stepped closer. "What does it say?"

"Oh," Logan muttered, sighing in relief. "He's just in the Imagination. He says he'll be back within a few days. Apparently, it was urgent."

"Do you think he's okay?"

"I assume so. Urgent doesn't necessarily mean dangerous."

With a nod, Virgil breathed out a gentle sigh and leaned back against the wall beside the doorway. From down the hallway, the frantic rustle of toiletries and such sounded, as if Roman could be hiding among them somehow.

Though, the door soon swung open and Patton hurried out, heading speedily down towards Roman's room. His fearful expression smoothed out into confusion as he took in Virgil's relief, but there was enough satisfaction to ease many of Virgil's worries. Roman was safe.

Probably.

After hearing Virgil's explanation of the note, Patton opened his mouth to say something, then shut it, seemingly deciding it wasn't important enough to bring up right that second.

"Well," Logan abruptly spoke, startling Virgil and Patton into paying attention. "With that sorted, I say we continue with our day as normal and await his return."

And as he left the room, Logan offered the two a reassuring smile.

* * *

The rest of Virgil's day consisted of watching television in the common room with the other two, chatting mindlessly about unimportant topics such as the weather and a man Thomas had found attractive three days earlier. Unfortunately, that second topic lead to Virgil falling silent and curling up tighter on the couch.

Why hadn't Roman said goodbye first?

In an attempt to distract himself, Virgil stood and decided to help Patton with dinner, pouring water into a pot and setting it on the stove. It was a night for pasta and a _lot_ of cheese.

As he laughed at Patton's weak attempt to measure the pasta, his mind replaced the empty space between them with another broad shouldered figure. And just like that, his thoughts strayed back, focusing on the question causing the pang of hurt in his chest.

He always checked in before leaving for an adventure, though he wouldn't always explicitly state his plans. But it was... nice to talk to him just before he left for the Imagination, to see him happy. A lot had happened lately that made it difficult to be anything but anxious, but whenever Roman visited the Imagination, he would be so relaxed the night before.

Well, he would be relaxed or vibrating with excitement. Either way, it was something Virgil found special to witness. And he was pretty sure he wasn't the only one who felt that way.

Had they offended him somehow? It was certainly a possibility, especially with Deceit's court fiasco and Remus popping up to induce the questioning of Thomas' morals. But Virgil couldn't point out one specific incident that could have prompted such a hasty and silent departure. In Virgil's mind, it could be anything and _everything_.

The tone of his voice, something he'd said, an idea he'd dismissed, an idea he'd _criticised_!

It could have been anything. And there was nothing he could do to fix it until Roman returned. He couldn't even concentrate on the delicious aroma of pasta boiling in the pot, not with a familiar boisterous laugh ringing in his ears.

"Hey, Virge," Patton said, interrupting his spiral. "Could you get the cheddar out of the fridge, please?"

Nodding curtly, Virgil turned to do so, opening the fridge door and feeling the chilled air on his skin. Somehow, it managed to calm his breathing slightly, grounding him and reminding him that Roman had left a note. He was only going to be gone for a few days. It would only be a few days.

He passed Patton the cheese and tuned in as he heard him start up a conversation on the meal he planned to make. Mac and cheese. Thank God.

That topic switched quickly to desserts, only making Virgil smile. Patton's damned sweet tooth.

"Do you think we should bake Roman something?" Patton asked, beginning to grate the cheddar into a bowl. "I just think it could be nice for him to come home to something sweet. Something baked just for him. What do you think?"

Virgil, still smiling, nodded. "I think that'd be nice."

They squabbled playfully about ideas. Cakes or cookies? Tarts or pie? Neither of them were sure as to what Roman's favourite dessert was, so they decided that cookies would be the safest bet. Roman, much like Patton, had a deep love of chocolate chip cookies.

The baking served to distract him for a while. Measuring ingredients and sneaking finger-dips of batter when Patton wasn't looking; Logan looked on in disapproval as he did so, but Virgil could see the corners of his lips twitching upwards every time.

After finishing his portion of mac and cheese, Virgil turned in for the night, accepting Patton's hug and Logan's nod before heading down the hall to his room.

His room seemed so much darker, even with the door open allowing all the light from the hallway to spill inside.

A sigh blew past his lips before he changed into pyjamas and slid into bed. Something didn't feel right. That interaction with Patton seemed oddly uncomfortable, which didn't make much sense, considering their dessert argument was nothing short of teasing. So, why did he feel the familiar teeth of guilt gnawing at his ribcage?

They managed to decide on cookies in the end, begrudgingly, but mutually. And not only were they special cookies baked just for Roman, but they were delicious; he and Patton had already tried one or two. They'd done something kind just for Roman, so what was there to feel bad about?

As he lay silently in bed, phone still in his hands, he felt his stomach clench and his throat tighten. Wasn't it strange how nobody knew something as silly and simple as Roman's favourite dessert? Virgil could remember quite a few times when Roman had remembered something small about him. His favourite colour, for one. He had even conjured up a Christmas sweater in purple just for him. And yet, the only things Virgil really knew about him were things that were obvious.

His love of theatre and Disney, red being his favourite colour, his adventurous personality and his shared loved of Crofters with Logan. Could it be that they were taking him for granted? When was the last time they had thanked him properly?

Or, even the last time they had asked him if he was okay? Had they done that lately? With his somewhat estranged twin brother suddenly showing up again, his dream callback being cancelled and the idea of attending another couple's wedding.

But he couldn't remember a single time where he'd asked, truly, if Roman was doing okay. He'd been hit in the head and Virgil had asked him then, but it was never something Roman could answer emotionally. Virgil knew he wouldn't have. _Was_ Roman okay?

Every time he left for an adventure, Virgil tended to think about how easy it could be to lose that chance. To lose the chance to ask him if he was okay.

The knowledge of whether sides could die like humans wasn't known. Not to Virgil, at least. But as the literal embodiment of anxiety, he gave himself permission to fear losing his friends. His loved ones.

Even before Virgil's two-part episode, he'd always grown concerned for Roman whenever he'd left for the Imagination. How come, even despite their once venomous relationship, he had blinked away bloody images late at night, his heart racing and his breath stuttering?

The worry made more sense once that two-part episode had been released. After all, they were friends, worrying about a friend fighting gigantic monsters was perfectly normal. But it wasn't just the worry. He always felt somewhat... angry whenever Roman left for an adventure.

Or, perhaps not angry, but upset. Upset that Roman wasn't there, that Virgil couldn't just step out of his room and talk to him. But why?

Why did he get so upset whenever Roman left?

Sensing dangerous territory, Virgil shook those thoughts from his mind and scrolled through the applications on his phone, switching every five or ten minutes to keep his mind occupied.

He was not going _there_ , tonight.


End file.
